


Unsteady and Laden with Disorder

by glasbluete



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Fee is constantly the one who needs to take care of shit, M/M, Paul you stalker, and is not amused, broclone got back, even though he has no clue, ignoring the last two ep's of the season (so far), orphan black season 2 ep 8, plus I'm bad with titles, spoiler - Freeform, variable and full of perturbation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-06 01:23:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1839268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glasbluete/pseuds/glasbluete
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>„This better be bloody important or I‘m gonna rip your fucking...“ <br/>He didn‘t get any further, though. The curse got stuck in his throat as he saw who the early (and noisy) visitor was. On first glance, still half asleep, pressing his palms against his temples, he had nearly thought it was his foster sister, Sarah. But not quite. The similarities were there, sure, but also rather striking differences. The beard, the dark, bushy eyebrows, and most of all that mullet, which should definitely have been appalling but somehow worked on Tony. <br/>„Long time no see, Fifi“, the man, who looked so much like his sister, grinned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unsteady and Laden with Disorder

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILER for season 2 episode 8!!
> 
> So, first ff I've written in quite a long time, and first one n AO3 ever. Please forgive me if it's really bad, just wanted to write something about those two, because heck, there should be so much more!
> 
> Also, this is the first, very short, chapter of something that will - hopefully - get longer. So far I have no idea in which exact direction I'm going.  
> Aaand this chapter ignores ep 9 and 10 of s2, latter of which I have nor seen yet! They will probably be included in later chapters.

The banging on the door pounded through his head. Was he still dreaming? Or high? Both, maybe?  
No, contrary to his first suspicion, there were no tiny people building tiny houses in his head. With an annoyed groan he struggled out of the bed, at first getting tangled in his blanket and various body parts, not his own, then tripping and stumbling through the chaos of bottles, wrappers and clothes.   
„Yeah, yeah, h'm comin’, shite, stop that bloody whacking...“, he grumbled as he shoved his door open.   
„This better be bloody important or I‘m gonna rip your fucking...“   
He didn‘t get any further, though. The curse got stuck in his throat as he saw who the early (and noisy) visitor was. On first glance, still half asleep, pressing his palms against his temples, he had nearly thought it was his foster sister, Sarah. But not quite. The similarities were there, sure, but also rather striking differences. The beard, the dark, bushy eyebrows, and most of all that mullet, which should definitely have been appalling but somehow worked on Tony.   
„Long time no see, Fifi“, the man, who looked so much like his sister, grinned.   
Lie. Only about a week ago they - Felix, Art, Sarah - had tried to ‚keep Tony out of all this crap‘ and had sent him somewhere safe. Apparently that had worked out well.   
„Fee, who‘s that?“, came a groggy voice from inside the apartment. Felix cursed under his breath while Tony raised an amused eyebrow.  
„What, you‘re cheating on me, Fee?“, the shorter man gasped in mock shock. „I‘m outraged!“   
„Shut up“, Felix snapped at Tony, then opened the slide door further and ushered him inside.   
The guy in his bed - Chris? Charlie? Chase? - sat up, looking perplexed and disoriented. „You.“, Fee snarled and pointed at him. „Out, now.“   
„But...“,the other man started meekly, but Felix immediately shut him up with a glare and an impatient gesture, so he gathered up his belongings, got dressed so quickly it was almost impressive, and left in an indignant strut.   
Tony snorted as the guy slammed the door shut behind him and Felix rolled his eyes. „The fuck are you doing here Tony?! We got you away for a bloody reason, you know.“   
„Oh, it‘s nice to see you, too, Felix, I‘m good, thanks.“, the long-haired clone grinned as he threw himself on the shabby couch, grabbed a bottle of whiskey and took a long swig. „If I didn‘t have a goddamn reason, Fifi, I wouldn‘t fucking be here, trust me.“   
With a sigh the taller man ran a hand through his hair and went to ‚lock‘ his door. „Call me that again and I‘ll throw you out. Through the window.“, he threatened while walking back, taking the bottle out of Tony‘s hand to chug some of that cheap, biting booze himself. He flinched in slight disgust but took another deep swallow anyways.  
„I‘d like to see you try.“, the other chuckled and claimed the bottle back.   
„I‘m all ears, Tony. Why the hell did you come here?“   
The clone‘s eyes narrowed, his expression changed from mocking and amused to serious. 

And as it turned out ‚serious‘ was a very accurate description for the situation. Tony told Felix how he had gone out, to relax and forget the last few disastrous days. It had been fun, at first, a bit of normality in the chaos. He had drunk, danced, laughed. Then a guy had approached him. Tall, handsome, with dark hair and startling blue eyes, a bit of stubble.  
Felix had shivered at this description and the picture of a certain person that it conjured up in his mind. He kept hoping, though, biting his lip nervously and letting Tony continue. „Well, he was hot.“, he continued. A simple statement, an observation, really, one that Felix himself had also made in the beginning - Shit, it seemed like ‚the beginning‘ had been ages ago. Still, now, after all that had happened since, that comment bothered him.   
„So we talked and drank and danced, though at first I‘d thought the dude was straight.“   
„He is.“, Felix muttered grimly.   
„What, know him?“  
„Yeah. Paul. Paul Dierden. Go on, though.“   
„Shit, yeah, he said his name‘s Paul. Fuck, so, he really is part of this mess, right? Holy crap, Sammy even told me about some Paul that’s ‚like him‘, and a ghost or something, whatever the hell that crap means. Shit. How should I’ve known he‘s that Paul? Plus I was pretty pissed by that time.  
Well, we got out of the club and suddenly he went all psycho on me, told me he knew who I am, what I am, asked about Sammy, Beth and Sarah, talked about some Ramona or something...“   
„Rachel.“, Fee interjected.   
„Yeah, that. She‘s a bloody clone too, right? How many flipping versions are there?!  
Fuck. I got pretty freaked out, he tried to get me to go with him, started pulling on my arm and shit, so I hit him over the head and ran. That‘s basically it.“   
Tony took another swallow of whiskey and handed the bottle to Felix, who followed suit.   
„So, basically, we‘re fucked. That asshole was Beth‘s monitor, he works for Rachel now. Rachel‘s the proclone, a scary bitch who works with your... creators or whatever, the DYAD Institute. Shit. How the hell did he find you?“   
„The hell do I know? A few days ago I didn‘t know any of this crap, and now it seems like I‘m neck deep in the shit too. And what the flying fuck is a monitor?“  
A sigh emerged from Fee‘s lips, this was getting more and more complicated. Would Paul have gotten to Tony if they had not sent him away?   
Oh well, too late now anyways. As it was, none of them would get out of this anytime soon.   
Another bit of whiskey found its way through his mouth. He should be careful not to end like Allison, he thought dimly and chuckled lightly.   
„What you laughing at, sister-kisser?“, the other snapped and gripped Felix‘s arm. „This shit ain‘t funny.“   
„I know, I know, sorry.“, he sighed and held the bottle in front of Tony‘s face as a peace offer. It was accepted easily enough.   
„Just had a funny thought concerning another one of your... sisters. Well. Monitors basically stalk the likes of you, if DYAD know you exist. They didn‘t know about Sarah and Helena, and I have no clue if they knew about you, but... Oh crap. You said Sammy was ex-military, right? And he even fucking knew Paul. Shit.“   
„Slow down Fifi, I‘m not following track. Could you be so fucking kind and explain your gibberish to me?“   
„I... I‘ve gotta make a call. Sarah. Goddamn it, how didn‘t we notice. They know you. Sammy was your freaking monitor. So Rachel knows you and ... Shit. You‘re not safe. They‘ll try to get you, they know this apartment and...“  
Hands suddenly gripped his shoulders tight and shook him.   
„Calm down, tosser. Having a breakdown won‘t help. Call my hot sister-clone, go on, and then you‘ll explain, yeah?“   
Dumbfounded, Fee nodded. That guy really was something. He grabbed his phone and nearly stabbed it, hitting on Sarah‘s contact icon.   
„Pick up, pick up, pick up... Hey, Sarah. We‘ve got quite the fucking problem here.”


End file.
